Don't Write Me Off
by SassyJ
Summary: Five years after Kate's death, new evidence appears and changes Gibbs' perceptions of what happened that day on the rooftop. Kate is dead, but Ari survived and has been in prison, disavowed by Mossad. Gibbs sets out to make things right.
1. Letter

I got to thinking, what if Ari survived and Kate did not. What would happen if it turns out that Ari did not kill Kate? How would Gibbs react? How would he handle the change to his thinking, especially if it is Abby who offers him the proof?

This is loosely based upon the 1946 movie The Captive Heart.

* * *

_My sixth year is approaching, bringing with it a new enemy. It is not the duration but the indefiniteness of duration. For if a man knew the length of his sentence, he could plan accordingly. _

_Deep down in my heart there is a lonely ache, a desperate need to turn back time. A fear of becoming forgotten. A fear of forgetting. I close my eyes, but I cannot picture her anymore. I know you may not believe me, but this loss gives me pain. Hope fades in my heart._

_Write to me again soon, Abigail. You never know how great the comfort is that your letters bring. They are the thing that gives me strength, and hope, and happiness. You will never know how much they mean to me._

Abby turned the paper over in her hands.

She knew. His letters had come to mean a lot to her. More than she would have believed possible. She glanced at the calendar on her desk, today was never a good day. Filling this day with work, with thoughts other than the pain of Kate's death, the misery of Kate's funeral.

The first year was the worst. She had asked Director Sheppard for permission to write that first letter. It was supposed to bring some sort of closure. To tell him all her feelings, to pour out her rage onto the paper. Even if she could not be certain that he would read it. It wasn't really meant to be read.

Four months after she had sent it, Director Sheppard had called Abby to her office. There was a reply. It was entirely up to Abby if she wanted to read it, or Director Sheppard could drop it into the shredder and they could forget it ever it existed.

Abby was tempted. She wasn't certain she wanted to read the words of a murderer. The words, she had no doubt, would be some sort of declaration of innocence. Some justification. An attempt to shift blame on the victim. Perhaps even some self-indulgent whining.

A justification for Abby to put this behind her.

She picked up the letter.

It sat in her desk drawer for two hours after she got back to the lab. Finally, she sat down, and pried up the flap.

He was simple. Direct. Honest. No justification. No begging, whining or pleading.

She read his pain in every sentence, every punctuation mark, and it brought pain to her heart. She put the letter back in its envelope, and stuffed it into her bottom drawer.

It would be two months before she got it out again. Before she answered.


	2. The Truth?

She read the letter again. After five years, her hatred had burned away. The man she knew from his letters, that man did not jibe with the cold, hard killer who had taken Kate from them. She was torn between the image of Ari that everyone had, versus the image of the man she knew from his letters.

"You saw something more in him, Kate. Didn't you?" Abby pulled open her desk drawer to rummage in her bag. She pulled out Ari's letters. _He had kind eyes, Kate said. Kind eyes and yet he killed her._

She had no real idea when she had started to keep his letters tied in a neat bundle with a black ribbon. It had just evolved that way. The first year, she put those letters in a box, and hid them away in the back of her wardrobe. There were only a few from that time.

There were more in the second year. She found herself corresponding with him regularly. They would talk about all sorts of things, medical, forensic, scientific; anything but what was on both their minds.

It was in the third year that she finally found the courage to talk about Kate. To stir up old memories, some of them painful. By now they were writing every month.

Ari would talk to her about scientific things, and questions about what being a Goth meant, and things about her friendship with Kate. She would talk about Habitat For Humanity, and bowling with nuns, and sleeping in a coffin, and ask him about medical and scientific things, and Kate. Without even meaning to Abby mentioned Kate's art.

That was when the drawings started. Tiny little sketches, at the end of each letter, detailed, attractive. He had a good eye, she decided; the letters and the sketches grew to be one of her pleasures.

The more she thought about it, the more unanswered questions there were. As time went on, Abby wanted answers. What had started as an attempt at closure became her secret obsession.

An obsession that she would have to keep to herself. Who could she tell? Gibbs? He believed Ari was guilty. Tony and McGee hated Ari for taking Kate from them, Ducky, who had been held hostage by Ari?

Ziva? Ari's sister, forced on their father's orders to shoot to kill to protect Gibbs. It had taken Abby a while to accept Ziva. But they were friends, and Abby understood the pain that the incident in the Gibbs' basement had inflicted upon Ziva. At the moment of firing, Ziva's hand had trembled, and it was that which had saved Ari's life.

Her shot had creased his skull, knocking him cold, and laying him out for two days. But he survived; to be imprisoned as the result of some kind of deal.

To bring the subject up would be cruel, Ziva had a hard enough thing to face, returning to Israel had nearly led to her death.

So Abby was alone with this.

She wanted to see him. Wanted to look into his eyes, read his soul. According to Gibbs the eyes would lie. But Abby was convinced she could read him.

It had taken a long time to get permission. But eventually, she had managed to get it, a pass to see him. She would have an hour. An hour alone with Ari Haswari.

_She was shown to a small bare room, with a table and two chairs. She couldn't just sit there passively waiting for him, so she hovered, uncertainly. The door opened and she turned to face him._

_Abby had known that they were unlikely to allow him free movement while he was with her, but it still came as a shock when she saw him. Hands cuffed in front, restrained to his waist by a leather belt buckled behind._

"_Ari?" Without thinking, Abby stepped forward to take his hands in hers._

_His fingers trembled in hers, he seemed a world away from the proud, confident and arrogant man who played with Kate, who taunted Gibbs._

"_Abigail." His voice waivered a little, and Abby's fingers squeezed his gently, as she guided him to a chair. He sat, and she pulled the other chair round the table. She was probably violating a dozen rules, but she couldn't care about that; Gibbs' rules and her own code of justice were the ones that mattered._

_They talked for a little while, as Abby tried to put him at ease. Finally, she could bear it no longer._

"_Ari... did you kill Kate?" she blurted out._

_He looked startled. As though this was the last question he expected._

"_What do you think?" A flash of the old, cocky Ari..._

_The eyes can lie, she reminded herself, but these were not lying. The calm, slightly arrogant tilt of his head, the suggestion of a smile on his lips, the too casual posture of his body, despite the handcuffs and body belt - those were the lies. His eyes were full of pain._

"_You didn't kill Kate." Abby's voice fairly hummed with satisfaction._


	3. Innocence

Returned to his lonely cell, Ari replayed his hour with Abby in his head. Every precious moment of it.

Kept away from the other prisoners, he was deemed too dangerous to mix with, his only other associations were with the prison officers there to guard him. Abby's letters were truly the only things that kept him going.

Once they discovered that he was virtually alone, one or two of his guards took advantage of the situation to make his life miserable. He lay back on the narrow bunk and yanked on the chain between his wrists in frustration; the guard who had returned him to his cell, Jim Packer, was one of the crueller ones. He had left Ari's restraints in place.

The buckle on the belt around his waist was digging into his back, so Ari eased over onto his side and tried to get comfortable. Chances were that he would be left like that until morning.

He lay there and thought about Abby, and her letters. In the first place he was curious. When she had written the first letter, he had not wanted to answer in the beginning. NCIS's forensic specialist didn't matter to him. Her opinion of him didn't matter.

The second or third time of reading, he started to care. Her anger burned so brightly from each line, but in the midst of all that anger, she still showed him compassion. He was intrigued without meaning to be.

He started to read the letter over and over. It was contact with the outside world. He understood that contact with Ziva would be impossible. So staying silent was his way of trying to repair some of the damage. But Abby was different.

So he had answered. He could have tried to charm her, he did in later letters, but somehow in his first letter he knew honesty was vital.

Ari Haswari had never had a problem getting a woman. Abigail Sciuto was different to any woman he had ever come across before. Charming Abby was an art form. Other women he had connected with were happy with compliments about their appearance, or something they had done. Abby's mind was more complex.

It became a challenge, to charm her, something that kept him from losing what little hope he had left. At what point it stopped being a challenge, and something to keep him sane, and became his reason for living he couldn't have said.

Reading and re-reading his letters from her, he could see the woman behind the image. Her honesty, her simplicity and complexity, her humanity. Even while she was hating him for the wrong he had done, she offered compassion in her responses to him.

There was no side to Abby, no crude trickery, no attempts to impress him. She was just Abby, loving, giving, caring.

He lay there in the darkness and ran over every word, every thought, every second of his time with her. There was one conclusion he could draw. Just the idea made him laugh out loud.

He, who had no hope and no future, was falling in love with woman. The kind of woman who would never have anything to do with him, even if he was free to pursue her.

...ooo0ooo...

She sat at her desk. It was late, but she wasn't quite ready to go home.

He was innocent.

He might be guilty of a lot of things, and he might have tried rather half-heartedly, to kill her. And he had shown up in Gibbs' basement, with Gibbs' rifle, and Ziva had shot him in the head... she could still recall the scar, high up on his hairline, at his temple... and, and...

But... he had not killed Kate. They had locked him up, and thrown away the key, for killing Kate.

Whatever else he had done. He had not done that. And he had suffered enough, she could read it in his eyes, in his body language, between the lines of his letters. In the tone of his voice as he spoke.

She knew he was innocent. She had to prove it scientifically.

Abby could not stand by and allow him to continue to suffer when he had not done the thing they accused him of.

She didn't know when it became personal, but it was, and she had to try.


	4. Proof?

Abby made up her mind. This was going to be difficult, but she had to look into the case against Ari. She had to prove there was another shooter. That Ari did not kill Kate.

She had no idea if the truth would set him free, but she had to try.

Fornell owed her one.

And this time she was going to collect.

...ooo0ooo...

"Abby, this is not a case that you should be looking into."

Abby glared at Fornell. "Why?"

Fornell shifted his feet and cleared his throat. This entire thing, Abby's sudden interest in Haswari, was making him really uncomfortable. "Because Haswari's guilty and..."

"They've done a deal to lock him away for the rest of his life." Abby stepped forward, "even though he didn't do it."

"You don't know that." Fornell ran a finger under his collar, it was feeling very tight.

"No, I don't." Abby's clear green eyes drilled into him like two lasers. "So, maybe a proper forensic examination of the evidence confirms everything that you think you know. And you can keep Ari locked away with a completely clear conscience."

"But you don't believe that." Fornell's voice was quiet, Abby could sense him weakening.

"No I don't." She agreed with complete candour. "It was in the eyes."

"But the eyes can lie." Fornell echoed Gibbs.

"True, they can," Abby smiled, "but in this case, the lie was in just about everything else. He sat there, apparently calmly, and tried to make me believe that he had done it."

...ooo0ooo...

Ari shifted with difficulty on his narrow bunk. The injuries weren't serious, and he could not risk a trip to the infirmary, at least not until Packer and his two _buddies _were on rotation. His right elbow was bruised and swollen, very tender to touch and there were some nasty bruises over his right side. He eased slowly over onto his left side, and buried his cheek into the pillow. Breathing steadily through his nose, he closed his eyes and waited for the throbbing to reduce to a manageable level.

As long as he could get through the next few hours until shift change, he would have the chance to recuperate for a while.

Until Packer came back on shift. And then the attacks would begin again.

He could not complain. They would be unlikely to believe it, and he did not want things to get worse.

Abby's letters and visits were all he had to look forward to. He would not draw attention to them in any way. And it wasn't as though he couldn't take a little pain.

...ooo0ooo...

Abby carefully sorted through the box. Even touching the contents was painful.

But not as painful as her _Kate box_.

After Kate's death, Kate's mother had sought Abby out and handed her the box. Carved wood. It was more of a small tea chest than a box. Abby took it with mixed emotions, uncertain if she could bear to examine the contents.

It took her three years. Until the night after her first visit to Ari.

A couple of sketch books, some mementos of things that she and Kate had done together.

And, right at the bottom, the letter.

It was addressed to Abby.

Abby had stared at it for ten minutes before she could face picking it up.

_Kate's handwriting. Addressed to me._

It was a letter. Written the night after Gibbs shot Ari in the shoulder.

_Dear Abby_

_What do I do now?_

_He's here. He's asleep on my couch. There's a hole in his shoulder, and he belongs in hospital, but he won't let me call for an ambulance. He sat in my kitchen and calmly directed me to patch up his wound._

_I know I caused him terrible physical pain, he could try to blank it out, but he couldn't hide the pain from me. I saw it in his eyes, my hands trembled but I patched him up anyway. I was so angry with him, I was almost glad he was hurting._

_What do I do, Abby?_

_I seem unable to resist him. Unable to resist the man who seems determined to push Gibbs into killing him. I don't know if he is friend or foe? One minute I want to hate him, the next I find myself melting like a schoolgirl on her prom date._

_Whatever happens, Ari Haswari is an enigma wrapped in a riddle, hidden inside a conundrum, but I have this feeling that even though I am playing with fire, Ari is not as black as he seems, not as black as he wants to appear, and this is somehow his endgame. And it's going to end badly for him._

_I don't know the truth, I only know that the course is set, just remember that there is more to this game of Ari's._

It was unfinished, and Abby had the feeling that it was never intended for her eyes. It was one more thing to think about.

Through the two years that followed, and her occasional visits to Ari, she thought about Kate's letter. Somehow she had never brought the subject up, reluctant to cause more pain. Although whether it was Ari's pain or her own she was unsure.

Now she was fighting to win Ari's freedom.


	5. Pain

Awkwardly Ari pulled the sleeves of his white undershirt down, hiding the bruising on his arm. He didn't want to cause her pain, Abby felt things very keenly and Abby's feelings mattered a lot to him.

He held out his wrists to the guard, and Packer slapped the handcuffs on, squeezing the bracelets closed. Tight enough to be uncomfortable, but not so tight as to raise questions about brutality. He was a cunning bastard.

Packer attached Ari's cuffed wrists to the body belt and fastened it around his waist. It had taken Ari's pride a long time to get used to being shackled like some kind of wild animal, but if that was the price of his visits from someone who cared about him, he could take it. It was funny how he had never really needed simple human contact until he was deprived of it almost entirely.

Packer deliberately grabbed his sore and swollen elbow, and for a few seconds Ari saw stars, pain pulsing up and down his arm. He had underestimated how much having his elbow pinned into one position was going to hurt. Packer grabbing his arm was almost the last straw.

...ooo0ooo...

Abby wasn't fooled for an instant. Her heart went out to him as he seemed more tired and defeated than ever. During her regular visits she had learned to read between the lines. Ari was by nature something of a loner, but he wasn't an isolationist. The loneliness of his situation was getting to him, and she could tell that someone was treating him brutally. Bruises that he never mentioned and tried to conceal from her, his demeanour, a certain desperation in his eyes as the end of her visit came around.

Almost six years, and Abby had her answer. The file with the results was burning a hole in her in-tray. Ari had not killed Kate. Now she had to find a way to do the most difficult part. Admit to Gibbs that she had found Ari not guilty of the crime.

She loved Gibbs. He had all the cause in the world to hate Ari. But Ari had not killed Kate, he was suffering for a crime that he had not committed and she knew he could not cope for much longer.

She wanted to save Ari. For Kate's sake. But she could not give him false hope, although it nearly broke her heart when he tried to carry on as normal, even flirting with her a little. She carefully cramped down on her own feelings. Visiting him every month, talking to him, spending time alone with him, her feelings for him were growing.

Saying goodbye and leaving him to the tender mercies of the sly looking guard that brought him in was getting more and more difficult. As the end of the hour approached, she reached out, gently taking his cuffed hands in hers she leaned close and whispered "Hold on, Ari." Even that was too much, his fingers trembled in hers, but the look of hope in his eyes, buoyed her a little. She squeezed his fingers gently.

...ooo0ooo...

He strode through the antiseptic scented corridors. His coffee clutched in his hand. His outward appearance of calm, enough to send the nurse scurrying as he opened the door.

She jumped to her feet. And stepped forward between him and the bed. As though she could protect him. Which only served to make Gibbs angrier.

Anyone but Abby.

He could see fear in her eyes, and a fierce determination... and something else beneath her utter conviction.

"He didn't do it, Gibbs."

"Why?" His voice cracked.

Her expressive face tilted, and that wry, confused and confusing look crossed her features. He sighed. This was Abby.

He looked past her to the man lying in the bed. Pale, gaunt, older than when he had last seen him. A tired shadow of his former self.

And he felt something he thought he would never feel for Ari Haswari. Pity.

Abby half-turned, her hand reached out to take Ari's. "Because Kate told me to." She said simply.

Gibbs turned towards the door. "There's more."

He hated that it was his anger that caused her tentative tone. "There always is, Abbs." He tried to be more gentle.

"I need to show you."

He sighed and turned back, moving closer to the bed.

Ari appeared to be asleep. He was bruised and battered, and his right arm was in a cast. His left wrist cuffed to the bed rail. As Abby gently laid Ari's hand on the bed, Gibbs realised that whoever had cuffed him to the rail, had ensured that he would not be able to reach the button to summon assistance.

Gibbs reached out and unpinned the bell from the sheet, moving it closer to Ari's hand. The man was his enemy, but this deliberate act of cruelty was something else entirely.


	6. Decisions

After Gibbs had gone, Abby sat down next to Ari again, taking his left hand in both of hers. She really had to get into work, but she was reluctant to leave Ari alone.

It was Fornell who had rung her, Ari had been rushed to Bethesda with a fractured arm after an alleged fall from his bunk. The injury was a bad one and required more than the treatment available at the prison. X-rays had shown a spiral fracture, a dead giveaway that this was brutality and not a fall. Even flat on his back and strung out on pain medication, Ari had tried to hide it. When Abby became distressed over it, Ari had tried to comfort her.

"You should go."

"I know." She looked down at his hand, clasped in hers, unaccountably shy. "I need to go... to prove your innocence."

He smiled, even doped up he still had the pull that had magnetised Kate. "Abigail, I am not innocent... I have done a great many evil things..."

She leaned over the bed, intending to kiss him on the cheek. Their eyes met, and Abby closed the distance between them.

His defences were shaky, and when her lips touched his, he gave in to his feelings. For just a moment he could pretend. He hadn't felt like this since the innocence of his boyhood. Her lips were soft and irresistible, her tongue gently swept across his lower lip, and he groaned and opened his mouth. Their tongues met, Ari closed his eyes savouring her gentle touch, as her hands framed his face. He was falling in love with Abby.

His pride would not let him beg her to stay, his eyes were not so discreet. Her fingers trembled as she gently caressed his face. The scar on his temple, the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth, the haunted look of suffering which he tried so hard to conceal from her. Like the bruises and other injuries he tried to keep to himself. He was still trying so hard to be the enemy but after nearly six years of indifference and brutality, his defences were mostly gone.

"Get some sleep." She whispered, kissing his cheek.

He didn't want to watch her leave, but he couldn't help himself.

She didn't look back. If she looked back, she knew she would not be able to leave, and she had a Gibbs to convince.

...ooo0ooo...

Gibbs took the folder from Abby's hand, and turned to go.

"He didn't do it, Gibbs."

He turned back, "Abbs... I..."

"I know it seems like he's the enemy, but it's different now."

"Eyes can lie, Abbs, and people do all the time." He studied her face. "This is more though, isn't it?"

She looked at him with those beautiful, clear, honest green eyes. And he knew the answer to his unspoken question, and knew deep in his soul that he would help her. Because this was Abby and she deserved a chance at happiness. And if he ever hurt her, Gibbs would hunt him down and end it permanently.

Somewhere, a little frisson passed over his nerve endings. In spite of his own feelings, he knew that Kate would have approved.

...ooo0ooo...

Ari eyed the overbed table with irritation. Fine dining it most certainly wasn't, but as a doctor he knew he had to eat something, no matter how little he felt like it. His head ached, every inch of his body was bruised and battered, his right arm was floating in the ether but he knew that it wouldn't be long before that changed. His problem was simple, with his right arm useless, and his left wrist cuffed to the bedframe, he couldn't reach. And the guard, Packer, had moved the assistance bell again. Just out of Ari's reach.

He closed his eyes. Struggling was futile and just aggravated his injuries. Besides, with Packer nearby he could not give the man the satisfaction.

Ari drifted, images of his final encounter with Gibbs playing silently in his head like an old home movie, cracked with age. He could almost feel the weight of the rifle in his hands.

He had gone to kill Gibbs, kill and be killed. He just wanted the pain to be over. If he could destroy Gibbs he would strike at the heart of his devious father's ambitions. And destroying Gibbs focused his rage and hate. He could not reach his father; but he could reach out and get Gibbs, another father figure.

He had failed on both counts. Gibbs was alive, and Ari was not dead. And the pain had gone on and on.

Until the letter. Until Abigail and the visits, and the touch of her hand on his; the half-imagined attraction had turned into something so real it was his reason for living.

His arm was throbbing now, raw, a sharp tingling sensation centred just below his elbow. He screwed his eyes tightly closed and turned his head away from his right arm, perhaps if he did not look at it, he could pretend that it wasn't happening.

The pain built slowly in intensity. He lay as still as possible, the dream images in his head rewinding to replay. The moment in time that he had avoided for so many years. Kate. He could picture himself sighting on her forehead through the scope, watching her die... feeling himself die inside as she toppled backwards. _Sorry Caitlin._

A pair of hands unlocked the handcuffs, freeing his left wrist. He opened his eyes. She was back, that half confused, half triumphant look on her face. She pulled her chair up, and sat down next to him. Ari reached out and Abby grasped his hand. He entwined his fingers with hers and hung on.

He seemed so desperate, and it hurt her to see him in that state.

...ooo0ooo...

Gibbs tipped the coffee out, and poured a liberal dose of bourbon into the mug.

He found Abby's actions inexplicable yet curiously characteristic of her warm heart. The fact that the focus of Abby's warmth and loving generosity was the man who Gibbs believed murdered his agent in cold blood. Who tried to kill Abby herself, although that was, admittedly, a somewhat half-hearted attempt.

It was completely in Abby's nature to have gone out and re-examined the evidence. And completely within the parameters for her to have found Ari Haswari innocent of Kate's murder.

If Ari was innocent, that left a very unpalatable possibility. That Kate and Ari had been set up by Eli David.

Gibbs had wanted to see the letters. From the moment she had reluctantly pulled the bundle from her bag, he had realised that those letters held a great significance for Abby. As he read them, he realised that he held the edited highlights in his hands, and that two letters had to be missing.

What those two might have said, he could only speculate, but he had no doubt of the sentiment attached to them.

He had slipped by the room on his way home. He wanted to talk to Ari.

She was there with him. Gibbs remained in the shadows and watched them together. The forensic scientist and the former assassin.


	7. The Forensic Scientist and the Assassin

_The forensic scientist and the assassin_. Gibbs sighed quietly to himself. On paper it made no sense, but watching them, Gibbs realised that whatever it was between them, it was real enough and there was nothing one-sided about it.

They appeared to be completely at ease with each other. He was not close enough to hear actual words, but when Abby moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and Ari levered himself slowly, and obviously painfully, into a sitting position, the mood changed from easy intimacy to something more passionate.

The kiss was as surprising as it was long-drawn out.

Gibbs found himself remembering that long-ago conversation in the basement; and wondering how Ari's life would have turned out had Eli David's cruel ambitions not intervened.

The _terrorist_ had indeed been Gibbs' old bone, but Abby had given him a different perspective on the man behind the smug triumphant smile. Now she was clearly personally involved on a level which was different to her normal relationship status.

He wasn't sure if he could make this one right. It was down to politics. And Gibbs hated politics. However, this was now a matter of honour. Whatever his private feelings about Ari Haswari, the man had not committed the crime. He had done a lot of other things, but if Abby could love him and she clearly did, and he returned that love with interest, perhaps Ari was not all bad.

Gibbs stretched a little. Watching this strange courtship made him feel once again a sense of loss. He had believed he had made his peace with his long-dead wife and child, the pain would never go away but he had reached reluctant acceptance.

He turned away, leaving them in peace together. Perhaps something could be salvaged from this painful episode.

...ooo0ooo...

Ari gently pulled her close, and Abby leaned into his kiss; carefully avoiding putting too much pressure on his bruises. The heavy awkward cast on his right arm resting on her knee. She gently wrapped her hand and arm under the cast, her hand cupping his elbow, cradling and supporting his injured arm.

Ari was grateful for the support, as he had sat up to get closer to Abby, he realised that there was something seriously wrong with his shoulder too. Then being close to her, being able to hold her, to draw comfort from her presence; he wasn't going to let go of that, no matter how much he was hurting.

His arm was floating in ether again, from the last round of pain medication, but he could feel the sharp claws scrabbling at the edges. He opened his eyes and pulled back ever so slightly, breaking the kiss.

"Ari?"

Abby's free hand came up and caressed his cheek. Unbidden, tears sprang to his eyes, and he closed them. He didn't want to crumble in front of her but he was a mess and he knew it. Her gentle touch and sympathetic nature his undoing. Her hand moved to curve around the back of his neck gently and she rested her cheek against the side of his neck as he struggled through the pain for some sort of control.

He wept then, silently, for all the loss and suffering. So many things, so many places, so many people... so many acts of cruelty. She said nothing, but held him against her as he put his head down on her shoulder and let go of the past, and the hate.

She made up her mind then and there, there was a way she could protect him better. People would be angry, and no doubt there would be a big fuss, what Tony and Tim might say was uppermost in her mind, and perhaps Ari would not like it much... his male pride; but she had to do something. It would have to be kept very quiet until it was done.

She whispered it then, and he pulled back a little. She searched his eyes as disbelief, hope and wonder vied with his pride, slowly he nodded, then they were both laughing and crying a little, as he leaned in again and their lips met.

...ooo0ooo...

Gibbs had read and re-read the file. He compartmentalised everything that he knew about Ari Haswari, including that long ago conversation in his basement. He glanced across to Ziva. There were no pretty ways to dress any of it up. Ari was innocent of Kate's death, but was Ziva guilty? The thought occurred and was dismissed. Whatever Eli David had done to his children, and for the first time Gibbs acknowledged that it was likely that Eli had deliberately had Ari's mother killed, Ziva David was not Eli.

That Ari was alive at all was down to Ziva's dread of killing her own brother. For a minute Gibbs wondered about a few other things. Malachi Ben-Gidon's extraordinarily clumsy attempt at a "rescue", that conversation which made little sense where Ziva asked Ben-Gidon if he was following orders and said that he dare not refuse Eli a second time. The family comment.

All of this added up to the lengths that Eli David would go to protect his position. His children were expendable. And they both knew it.

Gibbs got to his feet. There was another problem. The "accident" that had put Ari Haswari in Bethesda in the first place. He headed straight for Autopsy.

...ooo0ooo...

Donald Mallard stared at the x-ray almost blankly. He had little cause to care for what Ari Haswari might be going through, but that did not prevent his shock and horror at the picture presented by the x-ray film on the plate.

Haswari had been tortured.

"Got something for me, Duck?"

The doctor turned. "This break came from some form of torture." He said flatly. He put a hand up to trace the fracture pattern "A fall would present very differently."

Gibbs stared at the x-ray. "So, someone is beating up our terrorist."

"Yes." Ducky turned to his old friend. "I find it difficult to wish Dr Ari Haswari well, but in this case..."

"I know Duck, I know." Gibbs turned to go. He had a lot to think over. "Thanks Ducky..." he muttered absently as he left.

The forensic pathologist studied the x-ray, "bastard..." he muttered, unsure whether he meant the injured Ari, or the man who had done that to him.


	8. Breakdown

Gibbs entered the hospital room quietly. Ari appeared to be sleeping, the lazy sly-looking guard was nowhere to be seen, again... and Ari was cuffed to the bed.

Gibbs looked closely, the cuff was closed around the lean wrist just tight enough to cause discomfort and bruising but just about loose enough to appear an accidental oversight, and once again, his arm was pinned in a position where he would be unable to reach the assistance bell. The long arm of coincidence. Gibbs didn't buy that for a second.

Ari wasn't sleeping, he was just suffering in silence.

A muscle leaped in Gibbs' jaw as he reached out to push the bell and stepped to one side as the nurse arrived to his summons. Pulling a key out of his pocket he freed Ari's wrist from the cuffs.

The dark eyes opened, to watch him with an almost unreadable expression. Gibbs said nothing, but waited until the nurse had tended to Ari's needs and they were alone again.

"Tell me." Two words, economy of expression, Gibbs was beyond anger now. He had spent so long hating Ari Haswari, and wishing the Israeli dead that he had burned through it all. Abby's crusade, ill-timed though it may have been had brought things into focus.

Ari just stared at him for a moment. Gibbs thought he wouldn't answer.

He had been alone for two hours after his last round of pain medication had worn off. Packer's constant game was wearing him down, and now his enemy was asking for his version of events. If Ari had had the strength left, he would have laughed.

Everything hurt, his right arm and shoulder were really bad, and the doctor's rounds had scheduled Ari for surgery in the morning.

He closed his eyes, screwed them tight shut, perhaps when he opened them Gibbs would be gone. But the man was still standing there. Waiting.

He didn't want to remember his own fear.

_Packer and his two buddies. They enjoyed what they did, and with no way to defend himself, Ari was up against it from the first. The occasional punch or kick, and the thousand other ways that Packer could make life miserable for Ari, he took every opportunity._

_Then someone whispered to Packer that Haswari had money on the outside, and the attacks got progressively worse. Ari had coped with the beatings and the physical damage until the last attack._

"_Where is it, Haswari?"_

_Ari said nothing. His entire being was concentrated on not falling off the stool he was standing on. It would have been just about okay if his hands weren't secured behind his back with handcuffs. His arms had been pulled up behind him, forcing him to lean forward and they'd tied his elbows too, if he were to fall, he knew that it would hurt. They had attached the end of the rope to something solid above his head._

"_Tough guy, huh!" Ari had made the fundamental mistake of making eye contact, Packer's evil little eyes sparked with glee, and Ari saw what he was going to do, he tried to brace himself._

_Packer kicked the stool from under Ari, and Ari fell heavily sideways. The rope attached to the handcuffs had stopped him brutally short of the ground, there was a sharp, flat crack as Ari's twisted right arm snapped like a dry twig._

_Ari screamed as his arm broke and his shoulder was wrenched brutally hard._

His breathing was coming in short snatches as waves of pain hit. He tried to sit up, only dimly aware of a firm hand on his good shoulder, gently pushing him back into the pillows.

Gibbs kept a firm hand on Ari's undamaged shoulder and pressed the bell to summon assistance. He tried to calm the Israeli, but Ari was panicking and not really hearing him. Then the nurse was there, and Gibbs had to help her hold Ari's left arm to give him a sedative.

Ari's struggles were getting weaker as the sedative kicked in. Gibbs continued to keep gentle pressure on Ari's shoulder so he wouldn't thrash too much and injure himself further as Abby arrived to visit.

She instantly moved in to help, and Ari responded to the sound of her voice.

Finally after about ten minutes of Abby whispering soothing things, Ari was calmer and almost asleep, the fingers of his left hand wrapped tightly around Abby's.

Gibbs stepped back, reached out for one of the hard plastic visitors' chairs and sat down. Watching the tough, self-contained, arrogant former Mossad officer break apart like that had shaken him.

As he descended into some kind of locked-in hell, Ari's command of English broke, and he cried out in Hebrew. Even now, clinging to Abby's hand, under heavy sedation, he was still moving restlessly from time to time, muttering something which Gibbs could not understand.

Gibbs ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. Whatever he thought would happen, he had not expected Ari's complete and catastrophic collapse. He looked up at Abby, sitting on the bed, holding Ari's hand and trying to soothe him.

"Abbs, I didn't expect this... I'm sorry..." uncertain if he was apologising to Abby or his former nemesis.

"Gibbs." Abby's smile was half rueful, half fearful, "He can't go back. Please. He just can't."

"Abbs, I don't know if there is anything I can do." He put his head in his hands.

A single tear traced down her cheek. Ari muttered something and moved closer to Abby. She reached out her free hand and rubbed his back in slow circles as he burrowed against her.

Gibbs stood then and moved up close, putting his arm around Abby's shoulders as she leaned her head against his chest, his free hand he laid gently on Ari's arm. "I'll do what I can." He dropped a kiss on the top of Abby's head.


	9. Love in Strange Places

Gibbs quietly poured himself another drink. He loved the peace of his basement, the smell of sawdust, the feel of new wood beneath his finger tips. He ran a hand slowly over the new rib. Another boat.

The day's events had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. While he had no doubt that Ari Haswari could assume any role he decided to, there was nothing feigned about his breakdown. Gibbs had sensed that Ari was even more fragile than he appeared. The man looked tired, older, ill, and close to the edge, vulnerable. Reluctantly he had to admit that Ari had clearly fallen in love with Abby. Watching them together, he was certain that Abby's feelings were engaged too, not just her natural empathy.

Whatever Gibbs' own feelings about the matter, six years of prison had taken a terrible toll on Ari emotionally, and now physically. His injuries were no accident, Gibbs had the suspicion that the sly guard sent to Bethesda with Ari was the one responsible.

Gibbs sipped the bourbon, savouring it. He was surprised to find that, whatever he had felt at the time of Kate's death, he no longer hated Ari. Seeing Ari broken and distressed gave him no satisfaction. He was startled to realise that he did care what happened to Ari; Kate had seen more in him than mole or terrorist, for the sake of Kate's memory, he had to do something. Seeing his beloved, kooky forensic scientist in love made it all the more difficult. He would try, but politics would determine if he could succeed or not.

_Politics._ Gibbs drained the glass and set it down carefully on the bench. He planted both hands down on the bench and stared into the empty glass as though he would find the answers lurking in the bottom.

...ooo0ooo...

Abby put the cushion down on the visitor's chair, and arranged the comforter within reach for later. Ari was out of surgery, and barely awake. She was not leaving him to the tender mercies of Packer, who had reappeared.

Ari was very weak and tired after surgery on his shoulder and fractured arm, he needed her and that was all Abby cared about. She was staying all night.

After the nurse had settled him and dispensed medication, Packer oozed into the room.

She instinctively disliked the man. "You don't need to be here." She tried to keep the growl out of her voice.

"I'm only doing my job, making sure Haswari doesn't make a run for it." His voice was as oily and unpleasant as his exterior.

Abby's eyes narrowed. "He's still too groggy to even sit up." She took Ari's left hand in hers. Packer's nasty little eyes took in this protective gesture and an unholy gleam lit them up like headlamps.

At that moment Abby realised that she had just given Packer another stick to beat Ari with. That he would now bide his time and wait until he was alone with Ari to inflict more harm on him.

Packer smirked as Abby glared defiantly at him, and then he slithered out. Leaving her wondering how she was going to nail Packer and protect Ari from this latest threat.

He shifted restlessly, and she bent over him. "Ari?"

The brown eyes were dulled from pain and lack of sleep, but they held a hope and determination that Abby hadn't seen before. "Lie with me." He whispered. She was scared of hurting him, but she wanted to be truly close to him, so she toed out of her boots, and peeled her jacket off. Then slipped quietly up on to the bed.

He eased onto his side, moving his arm hurt, but this was his chance to be close to her, and he wanted a memory of this time. Something to hold onto in his cold, lonely incarceration.

Her gentle green eyes were looking at him with real love in their clear honest depths. He inclined his head a little, as she leaned in and their lips met.

He had kissed many women, and flirted with many more; but he had never given away his heart so freely. Her arms slid very carefully around him, and he pulled her closer with his left arm.

It was dark outside, and he was certain that the nurse was done for the night, the lights had been dimmed. He was tired and he ached, but they were both getting into it. Abby sat up and peeled off her top, "we shouldn't be doing this," she whispered as she bent over him, "your arm..."

"is fine." He smiled sleepily, loving the sweet blush of confusion on her face as he admired her beautiful body.

"What if someone comes in?" She bent over him, and he pulled her close with his good arm.

"They won't but if they did, I'm sure they would compliment me on my excellent taste." Ari teased gently, he ached all over, his head felt more than a little stuffed, and there was a slow-burning pain in his right arm, but holding Abby in his arms made all these things seem minor inconveniences.

She grinned, "if you say so," that teasing light was back in her eyes, and she bent to kiss him on the lips.

Ari moaned a little, and deepened the kiss, "make love with me..." he whispered, taking in the light of passion in her eyes. Despite her worries about hurting him further, she could not resist the softened look in his dark eyes, or the gentle touch of his fingers on her bare skin.

She pressed against him, they were flesh to flesh as he eased onto his back, and she straddled him in one swift move. Then there was only the language of love as they explored each other.


End file.
